


Small world

by pauraque



Series: The grass people [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comment Fic, Cross-Generation Relationship, Diary/Journal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-14
Updated: 2005-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauraque/pseuds/pauraque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What kind of a question is that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hannelore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannelore/gifts).



> In one of those "ask my characters a question" memes, Hannelore asked Remus from Microcosmos whether anything ended up happening between him and Harry, so I wrote this. You can take it as a real sequel if you like, or merely as one possible outcome.

_What he says:_

"What kind of a question is that?"

 

_What he writes:_

17 July

Sometimes I see James in the tilt of his head or the smile hiding at the corner of his mouth, and I feel 16 years old again, almost catching the scent of the lake.

*

25 July

When I ring him, his bellowing uncle answers, and gives him the phone only reluctantly when I ask for him— Oh, very well. Each time, I'm afraid he won't give up the phone, demand to know what sort of man takes out a teenaged boy.

I think he comes out with me simply as an excuse to get out of the house.

*

4 August

At lunch today he tried to pay his half, trying to make it look natural as though he did it every time. I said it wasn't necessary, and he turned red, looked away.

I'm sure he's not fed enough, and I enjoy watching him eat until he's not hungry anymore. He eats quickly, as though some part of him isn't sure there will ever be more.

*

7 August

Not been sleeping. I close my eyes and feel cold, bare. Pushing out against my own skin, fingers curling up around nothing. Silence.

Last night at dinner, when I said he seemed tired, he told me the house across the road from him was having a new roof put on, and it woke him up early every morning. His eyes slid over to the left, and I thought of him lying awake too.

I said if he couldn't bear the noise he was welcome at my place for a night.

*

15 August

Mercy on me.

His skin was so warm, his knees and elbows so boyishly sharp.


End file.
